Fear of the Night
by destinykeyblade
Summary: A child subjected to darkness without end, whatever forms that darkness may take, will forever harbor a fear of it. The mighty Sephiroth was no exception, though one would never know it to look at him. Nor could he admit it to himself - that is, until he was staring it in the face with nowhere left to run. VERY pre-Crisis Core. Very dark, rated for blood, gore, and Hojo in general.


**To those who know me:** No, I'm not dead. It's seemed like it for a long time, but the truth of it is that my inspiration has been... lacking, shall we say, for almost all my older fics -.-" My mind blocks all the passages for ideas pertaining to them so that they can't come through, leaving room only for entirely new stories. Focusing so much of my attention on other fandoms helps it do that. Sorry, guys. My other works stare accusingly at me every time I turn on the computer, and one of these days I'll actually open up their documents and clean all the dust off. For now, though, my mind is on Gaia.

**To those who don't: **Welcome, welcome! Nice to meet you! Ignore all that jabber above. Thank you for your patronage!... or something like that ;)

**All readers:** This is the part where I humbly ask for your attention, as I have a few things to say that _may_ be important. First and foremost, I'm really not certain if I've rated this story correctly, and once you've read it, I would appreciate your opinions :/ This is hands-down the goriest thing I've ever written, and I'm not sure if it belongs here in the T section or if I need to bump it up to M. That brings up to the second comment, namely that if you have issues with blood, you may not want to read this. I myself am that girl who enjoys herself immensely when there's blood in the UFC (well, not the _bad_ cuts, 'cause I worry for the fighters), and while I was writing this, my stomach started knotting up and for a second or two I felt sick. So, readers, ye be warned. Third, I have recommendations :D If you enjoy the gory-ness of this, I highly suggest BoomChick's _Ugly Truths_, which is centered around the Remnants, and _Restart_ by the same author, simply because it's good and you should read it lol. Also like to give a shout-out to Sparky the Pixel's story _Anxious, Worn Out, and With A Bad Concussion_, which is in no way violent like this or the other two, and should make you smile or giggle a few times.

Couple more things I'd like to say here and then I'll shut my virtual mouth. The basis for this story is an instrumental song that, to my deep regret, I cannot seem to locate on YouTube, and don't know the actual name of. Any bronies out there, it came from the Brony Music Radio podcast, but I don't remember which number, and as the dj is very slurry, the best I could decipher was that the title is 'Fear of the Night', hence the title of this story. If ANYONE knows what I'm referring to, please listen to that for the first half of this fic, or at least the portion after the lights flicker. For the rest of you, my deep apologies :/ The second half of the fanfiction was written to _Safe and Sound_ by Taylor Swift and the Civil Wars, and since I know that one exists, I recommend that you give that a listen while you read. It should make it more enjoyable. Also used to write was _Boats and Birds (demo version)_ by Gregory and the Hawk, and I must INSIST that while reading the end, you listen to Florence + the Machine's _Never Let Me Go_. You won't grasp how Sephiroth is feeling without it.

All babbling is now complete; as such, please enjoy if you can, and stick around for the end note as I beg your help with a matter.

* * *

The darkness was absolute, the stone walls allowing not a single bit of light into the room. Or were they made of steel, or concrete? Huddled in what he presumed to be the center with his knees drawn in close to his chest, Sephiroth couldn't be sure. His arms wrapped around his legs as he curled in on himself further, lowering his head to his kneecaps. Silken silver strands slipped silently across the fabric of his shirt, falling around him like a protective veil from the surrounding blackness, pressing in on him from all sides and angles. A quiet but shuddering sigh left the young boy. His fingers gripped tightly to the odd synthetic material that made his pants, the only shield between his fingernails and otherwise unprotected palms. Sephiroth focused on the pressure he exerted, doing all in his power to ignore the feeling of hopelessness welling up in his chest and fight down the sobs it brought with it. He was not going to cry. Crying meant that he'd given up, and he hadn't, not yet.

_And that's why you're down here,_ a voice in his mind said accusingly. He tightened his grip further, feeling his hands begin to cramp but ignoring that sensation as well. He _knew_ why he was here. Despite the way he acted in front of the adults in the Shinra building, he knew very well the difference - by their standards, at least - between right and wrong. He was well aware of what they considered to be good behavior, and he was _very_ well aware of what was bad. For instance, his pretending not to know was bad, and in all honesty quite so. The 'adults' in the lab, who thought themselves so smart, weren't able to tell that he was lying, though, and so he kept it up, using their ignorance and arrogance to his advantage to stay out of trouble. They thought that because he was a child he was stupid, something that made him scoff on a regular basis - behind their idiotic backs, of course. He knew from watching them and making comparisons that even at six years old, he was far more intelligent than several of the scientists.

His age was usually one of the factors that kept them from doling out punishments any more severe than a missed dinner, which he tended not to mind overmuch. They never fed him anything that was good to eat, anyway, and the security guard that kept a watch on him at night (after one too many excursions with a filched keycard) was fond of children and brought him snacks that tasted good. Today, however, it had made little difference how old he was, for he had been very, very bad, and as Hojo had not been in a pleasant mood beforehand, Sephiroth's antics had only worsened the situation. The awful tests they called 'check-ups' had not been due for another week, when the bruises from the last time would be gone, but for some reason they had changed their minds and rescheduled - naturally failing to inform him.

And so when he was snatched without warning and put on the frigid table where they stabbed and cut and bled him, Sephiroth had panicked. Severely. Before the assistant that picked him up was able to strap him down, he sprang away from the man, adrenaline coursing through his small form. The assistant lunged for him, and Sephiroth leapt, sailing through the air for a moment before landing ungracefully on a long table cluttered with beakers and vials. The screech coming from Hojo's direction had scarcely registered in his mind, preoccupied as it was with escape. He pushed to his feet and dashed along the countertop, trampling and smashing half the containers and knocking the rest off to shatter on the floor, their contents becoming vibrant, multi-colored pools on the stark white floor. Hearing the sounds of pursuit, the six year-old ran faster, jumping to the floor when the table ended and diving towards another, also full of bright-colored liquids in glass bottles.

Acting on a base survival instinct, he whirled to face and assess the threat; the man who had grabbed him had fallen, presumably trying to avoid the things Sephiroth had unseated while running. A vast majority of the laboratory staff was attending to a violent specimen, a large red feline, elsewhere in the building, leaving this part of the research center nearly deserted - and meaning that only Hojo was left to chase after him. Another wave of panic shot through the boy when he saw the greasy-haired scientist nearly upon him, and before he realized what he'd done, Sephiroth had seized a beaker full of what he assumed to be an acid-like substance and hurled its contents at Hojo. The glass shattered, his grip having failed at the inhuman shriek that ripped from the professor's throat as the stuff took effect; the left half of his body was clearly under seige from the liquid, which appeared to have actually been a sort of acid.

Shocked, the child stepped forward and reached out a slightly shaking hand. It was true that he hated the tests and the pain, and even Hojo himself for doing it all to him, but Sephiroth had never caused anyone more than a small and insignificant hurt; nothing on the scale of this terrible agony he seemed to be in. "Pr-Profe-" he tried, stammering, then gasped as he was struck across the face and sent flying into the table, the back of his head colliding painfully with the edge of it. He whimpered involuntarily when he was pulled up roughly by the front of his shirt and shaken, the words Hojo roared at him swept away and forever lost in a flood of emotions, tangled thoughts, and physical pain. Though Sephiroth tried to speak, to apologize, his attempts were met only with more attacks; he tried to block the blows, but to little avail. Then he was being dragged away, and was eventually tossed into what must have been a vehicle. He was vaguely aware of movement, or the sensation of it, as he, with his ears ringing and vision swimming, was in no shape to do much more than curl himself into a hopefully inconspicuous ball. Sometime over the course of... however long they traveled, Sephiroth succumbed to sleep, mercifully falling into a warm, comforting darkness, devoid of pain...

...only to awaken to more pain, followed by this nightmare of total darkness. Another shaky sigh left the boy - followed by a sharp inhale as he tried to stifle what would have been a blood-curdling scream. Something had just brushed against his hand, something that _had_ to be alive, as it hadn't been there before. He thought briefly about relocating himself, but dismissed it almost instantly, as he could easily crash into a wall, or trip over something, or unintentionally run into the very thing he was trying to avoid. He could only sniffle, fighting with his traitorous tears, and rock himself back and forth, hoping faintly that he would fall asleep. He expected nothing of the sort to happen, however; the floor was icy, the cold easily penetrating his thin white clothing to raise goosebumps and make him shiver, and his body ached all over, most notably the throbbing in his head.

Time passed. It must have, he reasoned, unless his prison was somewhere outside the reach of the Planet's normal laws. Not something he wanted to think about - if Hojo had the power to send him to such a place... Sephiroth clenched his fists, pulling the fabric tight against his legs. It didn't make him any warmer, nor did it make him feel any better, but moving even a little was better than staying sedentary. He pulled in a shuddering breath and let it out as slowly and evenly as he could. They weren't going to leave him here forever. ...Or... were they? Despite everything that happened to him at the labs on a daily basis, panic rose in Sephiroth at the thought that he might be locked in this place for the rest of his life. A skittering sound reminded him that he was not alone, and he bit down hard on his bottom lip to stop its trembling. He _was not_ going to cry!

Another noise came to his attention - from outside the room, apparently. His heart leapt up into his throat, and he froze in place, listening intently. Was that someone trying to open the door? Had they come for him? The pressure on his lip increased as he considered the pros and cons of a 'yes' to the second question. Hojo wasn't likely to be in a better mood; more likely, he'd had enough time to get truly angry, and that-

He gasped and flinched away from a sudden onslaught of light shining into his prison. A pained sound left his mouth as he brought his hands up to shield his face.

"What are you doing in here?"

Had his eyes been open, Sephiroth would have blinked in surprise. Who on Gaia was _that_? Hesitantly, he uncovered his face and opened one green eye a sliver, still unused to the brightness. Involuntarily his other eye opened as well, and both of them widened, his mouth falling open a bit as well. Up above him, at the top of a ladder that appeared to be the only entry point, stood a small girl, likely his own age, wearing a bright-colored dress on her body and an utterly bewildered expression on her face.

She, having both her eyes open, was blinking rapidly, very clearly at a loss for how to explain his presence. She pursed her lips, he saw, then turned around and started descending the ladder, some object he couldn't identify dangling from her waist. It thunked against her hip bone every time she made a move, making a rattling sound. "What are you doing down here?" the girl called again, halfway down the ladder. "And with the door shut, and without a light?" Sephiroth squinted and was able to make out that the thing hitting her leg was a child-size electric lantern.

With only a few rungs remaining, the little girl let go of the ladder's sides and hopped down to the floor - concrete, he saw, which explained how cold he was. His companion turned and regarded him for less than five seconds before skipping over to his position, landing with her hands on her hips as she peered down at him. "This is my clubhouse," she informed him, sounding slightly put-out. "I-" She broke off suddenly and gasped, her eyes growing large and her hands flying up to cover her gaping mouth. "Wha' happuned t'you?!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled and words slurred through her hands.

Sephiroth blinked, confused, and opened his mouth to ask what she meant - only to discover that the motion brought with it a considerable amount of pain. He squeezed his eyes shut again as he cringed from it, but found that his left eye was suddenly protesting, pain erupting around it, and he let out a despaired sort of whimper as he slowly let his eyes slide open once more. The girl was now on her knees in front of him, enormous blue eyes fixed on his apparent injuries and shining with worry. Sephiroth opened his mouth just enough that he would be able to force out words, grasping the fabric of his pants tightly in his fist as he thought of what he must look like. Sensation seemed to have returned with the light, and he could now feel that his face was severely swollen where Hojo had struck him, and likely turning some combination of black, blue, purple, and green.

"They..." he managed, trying not to wince again. The girl's expression morphed into fury after the first word. "Somebody beat you up?!" she demanded, her scowl intense. Deciding that it was the best course of action, Sephiroth nodded. As long as she didn't know who 'they' were, she could make her own assumptions. If anyone knew that he was from Shinra, things might begin to go badly. He heard the adults talk, sometimes, about how the poorer people in Midgar didn't care much for the company or those who worked with them.

He started when the other child gingerly placed her fingers on his cheek, her face softening to something with less anger and more sadness. "They beat you up and locked you in?" she guessed, and again, Sephiroth nodded, wondering if he would be able to fend off the horrible headache that began to form when he did so. She pressed her lips together in a thin line, apparently thinking hard about something. Then, after a moment, she clambered to her feet and held her hands down to him, palms up. He stared. What was he supposed to do? She wiggled her fingers, bending down a bit.

"Come on," she said, reaching for him. "If we go back to my house, my daddy can help. He'll make you better." Sephiroth felt his breath catch; tears began pricking at his eyes at the simple word. 'Daddy', she said, like it was nothing. What would it be like, he wondered, to be able to do that? Drawing in a breath to steady himself as he pushed those thoughts down into the depths of his mind, Sephiroth reached his arms up and took hold of her hands, letting her help him stand. He bit back a yelp at the pain that coursed all the way through him, from his stiff, numb legs to his pounding, swimming head. He held her hands tight as he fought not to cry, and she squeezed back, trying her best to be a comfort. "Come on," she repeated, pulling him towards the ladder. "Let's get back to Daddy."

The next few minutes were a blur of vertigo and nausea as Sephiroth tried to climb out of the pit his companion called her clubhouse. Even immediately afterwards, he could only remember vague impressions of clinging to the metal as though his life depended on it, faint sounds that must have been the girl's voice echoing in the background; but somehow, he made it to the top. Once out in the sunlight, he dragged himself away from the hole and hugged the warm pavement as the girl closed the hatch, from the sound of things narrowly avoiding killing herself in the process. The sound of a locking mechanism clicking into place met his ears, followed by footsteps.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concern lacing her words. He sighed in answer as he wearily rose to his feet. He felt himself wobble and was glad not to be alone when she put her skinny arm around his waist and turned him in the direction of her home. Linked together like this, they wandered the streets for what felt like an incredible amount of time before finally arriving in front of some kind of store. Flashing him a smile, the girl let go of him and scampered forward to open the door; her arms were just barely long enough for her reach the handle. Trying to smile appreciatively and discovering that it was more trouble than it was worth, Sephiroth, one hand pressed to his head, shuffled through the doorway.

Once inside, a brightness overhead made him glance upward. His hand fell away to dangle at his side as he stared, refusing to look away though the light stabbed at his already sensitive eyes. Lights. _Everywhere._ The entire ceiling was filled to the brim with lights, some in simple bulbs, others expensive-looking chandeliers; there was a row of ceiling fans with ornately shaped covers for the bulbs, and the right wall of the building was covered up with lanterns of all styles. He felt the tears threatening him once again as he beheld them all. After so long in that pitch-black hole, this... this was beautiful, and comforting. The warm presence that appeared beside him, emanating pride, was comforting as well. In her own way.

"My daddy and me run the store," she said, sounding very pleased with herself. "Aren't they pretty?" Sephiroth nodded, then moaned as the headache hit and brought his hands back up. She winced for him and touched his shoulder. "Stay right here," she said, and though he wasn't looking at her, he could imagine the worried look on her face. Her rapid footsteps disappeared from his hearing, though her voice did not. "Daddy!" she called loudly; Sephiroth was becoming very weary of fighting his natural reaction to screw his eyes shut at loud sounds and bright lights. He pulled in a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

Several moments and many shouts later, a brief silence fell over the shop, the only sound other than Sephiroth's breathing the hum of the many lights that surrounded him. Then his - dare he say friend? - returned, pulling with her a tall man with messy, gray-streaked hair and a kind look in his eyes. It quickly morphed into concern that matched his daughter's as he beheld the battered Sephiroth, still clutching at his throbbing head. He knelt down, the girl bouncing by his side on the balls of her feet, and gently pried Sephiroth's hands away to get a better look at his injuries. "What happened, son?" he asked in a quiet, gentle voice.

The girl tugged at his sleeve. "The bullies beat him up and locked him in my clubhouse, Daddy," she said, the anger she had initially displayed making a vehement return. She was almost seething as her light blue eyes again took in the extent to which Sephiroth knew he must be bruised. He was almost happy that she had answered for him, as he was caught somewhere between wanting to laugh miserably at Hojo - quite accurately - being called a bully, and wanting to cry at the kindness this man was showing him though he had never even seen him before. He didn't so much as bat an eye when the girl's father picked him up and carried him to a counter, placing him on it before wandering off to find what medical supplies he had.

Sephiroth waited patiently for the man to come back, watching in tired amusement as the girl struggled to climb onto the counter to sit with him. After quite a few unsuccessful tries, she marched across the room and found a chair to push over. This in itself proved difficult for her, but she did not give up, and within moments she was plopping herself down beside Sephiroth, grinning triumphantly. Then she jumped down and ran off, reappearing in less than a minute with a colorful book. He looked on in mild fascination as she flipped through the pages, pointing out her favorite characters and reading aloud her favorite pieces. Sephiroth had never seen a picture book before, though he had been aware of their existence. Professor Gast had told him about them, and had said he was going to get him one, but Hojo... well, after the horrible fit he threw and the shouting match that came of it, that was the end of that.

The man came back through the doorway, his arms laden with things, but from the look on his face, Sephiroth guessed few of them would actually be of any use. He was proven correct, as most of the items held within the first aid kits - for there were several, of different sizes and slightly different contents - were better suited to cuts and the like, which he luckily had none of. All that could really be done was for a plastic bag to be filled with ice cubes and wrapped in a towel so it wouldn't freeze his face. Both the man and his daughter looked at him apologetically as he lifted the ice to his bruises, but he forced out a quiet 'thank you' to ease their guilt.

Time passed slowly, and Sephiroth felt oddly at ease with that. The longer he was here, the more time Hojo would have to get angry for what had happened in the lab, but here with these people, in the glow of all the lights, Hojo and his temper were feeling more and more like a bad dream than a reality, even despite the sting of the ice on his wounds. Yes, Hojo could easily be classified as a nightmare, he decided, sometime while he was using his free hand to flip the pages of the book - something that caused his friend no end of delight, and had her father beaming at the both of them from behind his desk. A terrible nightmare, that's what he was.

_"That's not it, silly!"_ the girl was reading off the page, giggling happily as she did so. _"I'm looking for the blue one, not th-_ Daddy?" She broke off, derailed when the multitudes of lights all flickered at once. Her father stood up, the legs of his chair scraping unpleasantly against the floor, but that wasn't what made Sephiroth freeze, even going so far as to hold his breath. There was a sound, faint and most likely inaudible to the girl and her father, but familiar enough to him. Boots. Heavy, clunking boots, like the ones his nighttime guard wore.

_They're here,_ he thought, feeling panic begin to rise up within him. His thoughts began to swirl into one big, confusing mass as his eyes, his left swollen half-shut, darted around the room, trying to determine possible entry and exit points. _Hojo's going to be so mad that I'm not where I was how did they find me she closed the door they _always_ find me no matter what I do he's going to be so mad at me they're all over the place I can hear them oh Gaia-!_

He was abruptly shaken out of his increasingly dark imaginings of what would happen when Shinra's guards entered the building by the presence of a man's hand on his shoulder. Sephiroth snapped his head up, immediately regretting the action, but able to relax just slightly when he saw that it was not Hojo. The small girl had already slid down off the desk, standing abnormally still and silent as she watched her father lift Sephiroth and place him next to her. Her warm, tiny fingers swiftly intertwined themselves with his own, so cold from holding the ice. Sephiroth's teeth found his lip again as the man mouthed more than whispered to them, "Go into the house and wait while I see who it is."

A wild, hysterical sound that was a mix of laughter and sobbing welled up in Sephiroth's chest, begging to be released. They didn't know who he was. They didn't know who was after him, and he was really beginning to wish that he had informed them of that crucial detail. There was no help for it now, however, for his friend was tugging on him, and together they slipped quietly through the room in the direction her father had gone to collect the first aid kits. Tossing a glance over his shoulder, Sephiroth could see the man hastily hiding the aforementioned items beneath the desk, though he left the picture book where it lay. They had almost made into the portion of the building that was the duo's home when the glass door was pulled open, hot winds from the outside world rushing in to greet their air-conditioned brethren.

He pulled in a breath and held it, almost unknowingly, as the girl yanked him around a corner. He pressed himself against the wall at his back, squeezing her hand tightly. He hadn't meant to show any fear - in fact he had ordered himself not to - but the voice that drifted to his ears confirmed what he had been dreading: it was the other scientist, the one who had been helping Hojo when the whole mess had started. Sephiroth forced his breath to be as close to silent as possible, trying not to scream a reprimand when the girl peeked out to see who had entered the shop. He looked around the room instead, noting the locations of the furniture - dining table, countertop, cabinets - and a door that looked so inviting he could hardly stand it. He closed his eyes gently, trying to let the reassuring squeezes his friend was giving him actually be a comfort.

The words being spoken came in fragments; the frantic thudding of his heartbeat was trying its very best to block out other sounds, but he strained to hear nonetheless. The scientist was asking about him, saying that he was missing and that his family was very concerned. This time it was a scoff that wanted to escape his mouth. The first _family_ he had ever come into contact with was the father and daughter in this store; he had no such thing at Shinra, and never would he. An odd sound accompanied the aide's next words, and given that they were a question as to his whereabouts, Sephiroth determined that he was trying to bribe the man. He let out his captive breath when the answer was that he had never seen a boy matching that description, but that he would keep an eye out. There was some grumbling and another clink of gil, but when the only other words uttered had to do with merchandise, the scientist excused himself.

When the door had closed, the girl hopped out from behind the wall, pulling Sephiroth with her, despite his attempt to free himself from her grip and stay hidden. "Who was that, Daddy?" she asked, her voice subdued. He shrugged in response and shook his head, fixing his eye on Sephiroth, who in turn focused on the floor. Hardwood. They must have done reasonably well in terms of gil, though considering that the store was above the Plate that was almost a given. A moment passed in silence. Then, in the span of less than a minute, the entire world fell apart.

The sound of those heavy boots again met Sephiroth's ears, and he scarcely had time to look up before he heard a hideous screech of _"Get him!"_ He couldn't hold back the startled yelp as he saw, oddly enough, his own guard, armed with a handgun fit more for a Turk, heading toward him with a grim expression on his face. Behind him was the nightmare. Hojo himself was in the building, the left side of his face grotesquely bubbled and blistered from whatever Sephiroth had doused him with that morning. The silver-haired boy shouted something, he wasn't certain what, and started to run, dragging the girl until she got her legs under her to run alongside him. A sudden peace washed over Sephiroth as they sprinted for the door in the kitchen, his panic and fear retreating to the back of his mind to make room for logic.

Another shriek came from Hojo's direction as the deranged scientist ranted at the guard to stop wasting time. Sephiroth largely ignored him, his attention solely on escaping, a repeat of his morning in the lab save that his fear was repressed. However, as he had already learned in his short six years of life, nothing good came easily to him, and more often than not, it did not come at all. Instead, whoever was in charge seemed to find delight in taking good things away from him and giving him the bad in return. The lights began to flicker again as the true nightmare began.

She didn't see it coming. Judging from the expressions of all in the room, no one had, as Sephiroth had managed to muse several years later. Even he, with his eyesight so much greater than that of all those around him, had only caught a blurry glimpse, and had failed to recognize it for what it was - until the ear-shattering crack registered in his mind. But by then, of course, it was far too late. Time slowed to a painful crawl, and Sephiroth was forced to watch, fear and panic returning full-force, as the bullet hit its target, embedding itself in the little girl's chest with a sickening series of sounds. His bright green eyes widened with absolute horror as he watched her light blue do the same. Vibrant crimson exploded from her small form where the lead sank into her body; he heard and saw it exit her back, prompting more blood to fly out of her and stain the world. Sephiroth's scream died before it had even left his throat, his voice silenced by the scarlet liquid that splattered his face, his hair, his hands; it flowed freely from the large holes in his small rescuer, painting his white clothes and watering the bits of tree below her, the wood soaking up her blood as though it were water. The glowing blue orbs flicked in his direction as she started to fall, her fingers, slick with blood, at last slipping free of his own. He looked at her, desperately, wanting to believe that nothing had happened, but with one final flash of a blue like the sky, the light fled from her eyes. Mere seconds had passed, but the child was dead before her body hit the floor, splashing heavily into the pool of blood that had formed beneath it, the skull cracking as it bounced once off the floor.

An agonized roar issued from the other side of the room. Sephiroth didn't have to look to know that it was the girl's father, all of his grief and rage ripping forth from him. Another gunshot cracked, overpowering the shout, and Sephiroth stumbled when, against his better judgement, he looked over at the man. Hojo, who had stolen the guard's firearm, held the smoking weapon with an air of satisfaction, smirking far too happily as the second chunk of lead burrowed into the man's forehead; Sephiroth gasped and fell to the floor in his haste to look away when his head simply exploded, bits of grayish brain tissue flying away from his position to splatter against the walls.

There was no time for silence to reign, as Hojo strode across the bloodied floor almost immediately, shoving the gun back at its owner, whose haunted eyes had not left the body of the girl - which Sephiroth realized belatedly he had landed on when he fell. Revulsion overtook him, and he began to wretch, adding to the already sickening smells of blood and gunpowder that filled the room. Hojo seized him roughly by his arm and yanked him upward, dropping him in disgust when the boy vomited on him. Sephiroth again fell onto the corpse, and once again his stomach heaved, though he had never had any food to speak of that day. He was trembling so badly that he wasn't even capable of moving away from the body.

A loud sound tore through the room, and it took him several moments of Hojo's incoherent shouting to realize that it was coming from his own mouth, and that the warmth on his cheeks was not the sticky red blood of the dead girl, but the tears he had been fighting all day finally breaking the dam and cascading down his face. The sound had been a sob, horrible and wracking, and many more were following, despite and perhaps even _because_ of the madman's insistence that he cease that instant. Sephiroth could not stop crying, though, no matter what Hojo did - and he tried a great many things before giving up and ordering the night guard to pick him up from where the scientist had kicked him nearly to the wall. His tears became a deluge, continuing far past the moment he blurrily thought that he should have no more; his sobs had long since become gasps, his voice having gone hoarse after the first thirty minutes. Near that time, he had thought about trying to quit, but again found himself unable. The usual argument he made to stop his tears from falling was no longer valid. Even when they returned to the labs and Hojo resumed his screeching and inflicting of pain, Sephiroth continued to cry, for he had finally, truly, given up.

* * *

The darkness was absolute. It wasn't the first time he'd been in this situation. It was, however, the first time he had been in **complete** darkness in nearly a decade. Sephiroth stumbled about blindly; unfamiliar with the terrain and with no light source to speak of, there was little else he _could_ do. Living in Midgar, with its towering mako reactors constantly emitting the greenish light, it was difficult to find a place that was truly dark. Within the Shinra building, there honestly wasn't a place, as any and all dark spots had been located and promptly fixed with an emergency light at the very least. Leaving a light on in his 'room' had not been an option after the incident, but, say what you would about Shinra's president, he had actually had enough sense to insist that Sephiroth be kept on a residential floor of the building rather than the labs. He was under constant watch until he had finally been allowed to move into the SOLDIER barracks, but at least being on a floor designed for regular people meant having a window, and that meant that there was always a faint light streaming in on him.

In retrospect, that may not have been such a good thing.

Sephiroth was in Wutai, deep in the enemy's territory. He and the rest of the men in the unit - despite possibly being the most skilled warrior there, he was not in command - had been preparing to ambush a platoon of Wutaian soldiers who were moving through the area. They had several men guarding each possible route they might take to escape. Sephiroth himself was positioned in the mouth of a cave that reportedly led into a tunnel system, the massive katana he had taken for himself after breaking his standard blade killing its previous wielder unsheathed and waiting to draw blood. Their commanding officer was atop the cave in the mountainside, supervising the placement of explosives that they were counting on to crush at least a small number of the Wutaians in addition to causing a panic. What they HADN'T counted on was the possibility that the explosives were not as stable as they'd been led to believe.

Several things went wrong very quickly. The bombs, the explosive component of which had rather recently been cooked up by some unnamed figure in Shinra's Weapons Department, began to detonate, a fact that was heralded not only by the bright red flares and deafening sounds but by the screams of the men who had been handling them. The mountain the cave was a part of began to tremble violently. Shouts were coming from the mouth of every man but Sephiroth as the others broke position and ran toward the site of the explosion. The ground was shaking beneath him as he strove to keep his balance; he knew well what his new blade was capable of, and had no desire for the blood it tasted to be his own.

A figure fell from the area the 'bomb squad', as the others had affectionately labeled them earlier, had been working. His clothing was aflame, and from the way his body landed, smashing against the ground with various snaps and crunches, it was very evident that he had been dead already. The concerned yells of his comrades-in-arms turned to panic when the nearest looked up and saw him. "LOOK OUT!" he cried as loudly as he could, flinging a hand up with one finger outstretched. Sephiroth looked upward just as the grinding, sliding sounds began. It seemed that the body slipping off the precipice had prompted small rocks to slide, and the large boulders that the explosions had carved from the mountainside had apparently decided to join them - in the wrong direction. Rather than falling off the side as they were meant to do, they were now aimed directly at the mouth of the cave, and therefore at Sephiroth. He had mere seconds to decide what to do. Did he try to remain with the others and run the risk of being crushed by a wayward stone, or try to dodge them by hiding in the cave? When the first of the small rocks began to fall in front of him, he knew he was out of time, and with a shout to show that he was (for the moment) not dead, dove inside the opening in the earth, catapulting himself over an enormous sedentary stone to use as shelter. It was a hasty but decidedly advantageous decision, as several of the boulders rolled into the cave, crashing against the walls. Had he simply been standing somewhere, he could easily have been killed. Then the rocks began to pile up, and though he strained to take in as much of the cave's interior layout as possible, it was scarcely a moment before the final stone fell and plunged him into total darkness.

Now he was here, slowly attempting to make his way through the tunnels, straining his mind to recall every detail of the unfortunately vague map he had studied some week or so before. The fifteen year-old had sheathed his sword before beginning his trek, realizing grimly that he would just as likely kill himself than anything that might be in the cave with him. He didn't know how long it had been before he actually heard signs of something living other than himself. When he did, he froze to the spot, almost involuntarily. Though he forced it to remain quiet, his breath was coming quicker as he stood still, listening to... whatever was there. He told himself forcefully that it was not fear, but adrenaline. After several moments, he heard the thing move away and gently let out a sigh of relief. He took a step, reaching out with his hands to check for obstacles, and instantly recoiled when his right hand brushed against something soft.

Sephiroth was at war with himself from that moment forward. Though he realized very quickly that what he had touched was but moss on the cave's wall, the sensation had brought back a memory best left forgotten, of a dark, cold hole in the ground that Hojo had had him thrown in as a child. There had been something living there, too, though he'd never discovered what. And it had been so dark. Utterly dark. And cold. Just like this blasted tunnel. His heart was beating a great deal faster than his fumbling progress merited, and he was running out of lies to tell himself as to the reason. If he admitted the truth... No, he had to keep going. This was nothing.

The first two months after the 'problem' had been some of the worst of his life, but he had overcome it, learning how to force the gruesome images from his mind while awake and even, after quite a lot of time, learning how to exhaust himself during the day to the point that he had no dreams he could remember. Not that he had slept much in the beginning. Visions he had thought long locked away and even banished began to rise to the forefront of his mind, and here in the darkness with nothing else to focus on, he had no choice but to see them: the satisfied expression on Hojo's face, the absolute horror on the watchman's that no doubt mirrored Sephiroth's own as they watched the bullet slam into the little girl's body with enough force to come out the other side; the splattering sound of her father's brains slapping against the floor and walls when his own death occurred, and the blood, _so much blood_-

Sephiroth caught himself before he hit the uneven ground, but with the next step he attempted to take forward found that it had been pointless. His entire body was shaking; his legs could no longer support him, and he crumpled anyway, falling roughly to his hands and knees on the cold stone, _cold just like that room and it's so __dark_-! He fought back the urge to vomit and stubbornly tried to force himself back up to his feet.

"Come ON!"

It took a moment for him to realize that he'd shouted, in truth only realizing that the reprimand wasn't kept in his mind because of the echo. As his voice continued through the cave, the sound coming back to him as echoes were wont to do, he decided that he hated it. It sounded so childish, full of aimless fury, desperation, and fe-

"No!" he yelled again, squeezing his eyes shut - not that it made any kind of difference in what he saw. "You are _over_ this! You're not a child! You're in SOLDIER now; you've seen worse than that! Ifrit's sake, you've done it YOURSELF! YOU'VE killed people!"

There was a part of Sephiroth's mind screeching to the rest of it how unbearably _stupid_ he was, that he needed to shut his mouth like someone with half a brain, but the simple word brought the memory rushing back again, and he was forced to clamp his lips together so as not to throw up. Body trembling, he tried to stand once more, and, finding that impossible, crawled across the rough floor of the cave until he found the nearest wall, where he turned to lean his back against it and proceeded to draw his knees up, wrapping his arms around them and lowering his forehead, fingers gripping tight to the fabric of his pants. His breath was coming in short, ragged puffs, and though it was hardly cold enough to merit it, his teeth were chattering together as he strove to get a grip on himself. The moments stretched on, time impossible to determine here in this black void. It didn't take long, however, for him to realize that his attempts at calming down were not working, nor were they going to anytime soon. Whether he _wanted_ to admit it to himself or not, he knew very well what the intense feeling rushing through his being was.

_Fear,_ he acknowledged at last, hating himself and the cave and the cold and the dark. Mostly the dark, for that was what had triggered it, as much as he hated that fact as well. He had never subjected himself to true darkness again after that day, but he had thought nonetheless that he had moved past this. He had thought that the nights spent with only a faint glow of mako green to separate him from true darkness had cured him of this ridiculous fear, but... Apparently he had been mistaken.

The tears that began to slide down his face were less symbolic now than they had been almost ten years prior - then, they had represented acceptance of his defeat. He had known that he was never going to get away from Hojo, regardless of how or what he tried, and he had cried at that knowledge, overtaken by hopelessness. Now, the teardrops were little more than a sign of just how deep that old wound had been, that he should still be this upset by the memories so many years later.

Sephiroth's stifled crying was the only sound within the tunnel for several minutes. Then came a sound of displaced air, followed by a slight, cold wind blowing in his face, and the young man tensed, holding his breath. He started then, flying off the floor with a terrified yell at the feel of something - or, what felt like some_one_ - touching his shoulders. He scrabbled almost uselessly for the Masamune, his breath catching every time he tried to draw it in and ending up expelled as a sob, tears falling freely from his eyes.

_So this is how I'm going to die_, some part of his mind that was still functioning whispered, despairing and disgusted. _Trapped underground in this pit and crying like some kind of-_ The thought was cut short as the hands - for hands they were - touched him once again, gently.

_"Shh..."_ came a voice, emanating from nowhere definable. Sephiroth was rooted to the spot, the adrenaline rush from being so startled allowing him to stand, even though his legs were still shaking. _"It's alright, Sephiroth. Calm down. It's just me."_ A small giggle followed the words, sounding pleased and disheartened all at once. _"It's okay."_

It was a girl. Already physically and emotionally drained, Sephiroth could not find the energy to be shocked by the fact. Nor could he stay on his feet any longer. Letting out a ragged breath, he slid back down the wall into a position much like his previous one, trembling from the combined factors of cold and... everything else. The girl's touch remained as though she had sunk down with him, but he felt no presence beside him. "W-who... w-who a-are you?" he forced out, pulling his knees in close again.

He sensed a terrible disappointment. When the next words were spoken, it was not by the slightly melodic voice of what he had determined was a young woman; instead his ears were met with the high tones of a child. _"Me, Sephiroth,"_ she said, indeed sounding less than pleased by the need to verify. His eyes widened as he recognized the small voice, and he nearly choked on air. It didn't help that he was suddenly aware of a mako-like glow coming from somewhere in front of him. His eyes, starved for _something_ to see, were drawn to the greenish light, and he watched in pure disbelief as the glow transformed itself, taking on the shape of the little girl who'd pulled him out of the dark before.

The girl approached him slowly, as though she were afraid she might frighten him. _A little late for that_, he thought wryly, trying to make some kind of rational sense out of what he was looking at and finding that it simply wasn't possible. She paused, frowning, as though she'd heard his thought. For all he knew, she might have. Her shape flickered with her next step, the child vanishing and leaving a teenage girl in her place, a caring gaze fixed on Sephiroth as she came toward him. He knew his mind must be going when the next thought entered it, but... She was pretty. The kindness in her eyes - shining the same color as the rest of her 'body', rather than the light blue he remembered - was most likely a factor. No one had looked at him that way since... well, since she had died.

_"I just grew up is all,"_ she said, though her mouth made no movement save to form a smile as she sat down next to him. Her eyes focused then on something that only she could see, and her expression instantly became a frown. _"They didn't want me to. When I went to the Lifestream, they tried to kill me."_ Sephiroth started, turning to stare at her, and her frown changed to a concerned one rather than angry. She reached out a ghostly hand and placed it gently on his arm; he shivered at the contact, seeing her fingertips slide insubstantially through his flesh. _"Well, that's what I thought at the time,"_ she explained hurriedly, her tone apologetic. _"I was supposed to do like everyone else and just fade away, to join the Lifestream and help protect the Planet, but..."_ Her face became sheepish. _"I wanted to stay and watch you. That man... I knew he was going to hurt you, and I wanted to help you."_

She sighed heavily, letting go of him to lean back on the palms of her hands. They slid into the rock up to her wrists, but she didn't seem to notice. _"I couldn't do anything but watch, though. I wasn't... This is the first time I've ever been strong enough to do more than blow a little wind through your hair. And I even had to stop that so I could save up the strength to come here to you."_ Her mako eyes slid closed. _"I'm sorry, Sephiroth."_

As he struggled to come up with something coherent to say back, the girl winced and pulled her hands out of the stone, standing up quickly. She looked at him apologetically - and then, abruptly, she was gone, the absence of her glowing form plunging him back into darkness. He gasped involuntarily, feeling more blind than he had before, but before he could get upset by the lack of light, he heard her voice again, echoing in his mind.

_"Sorry,"_ she repeated unhappily. _"I don't have enough energy to stay like that, but I'm not leaving you alone-"_

"You should," he croaked, surprising the both of them.

_"What?"_ she asked, thoroughly bewildered.

"You should leave me," he said again, bitterness dripping from every word. "You're wasting your afterlife on a coward. You sh-"

_"You're NOT a COWARD, Sephiroth!"_ she interrupted vehemently, the volume inside his head making him dizzy. In her apparent rage, both her voices were blending together; the child screaming shrilly at him while the woman's voice deepened to the point of sounding hate-filled. _"You may not think so, but I don't really CARE what you think! You don't get it! You don't know what you've been through, or you don't understand what it means that you're still here after all of it."_

"Here," he scoffed, gesturing to the cave with one hand. "Lost under the ground, alone, and crying like an idiotic child! Ifrit's sake, I'm fifteen years old! I've _killed_ people! And I'm afraid of the dark!" His last sentence was almost a shriek.

_"DO YOU __**KNOW**__ WHAT KIND OF HORRORS YOU'VE LIVED THROUGH?!"_ the girl thundered, the force of her voice making him grab at his head. _"Do you even grasp the __**atrocities**__ that monster has put you through?! You should have been traumatized and in a nut house at age four! You shouldn't still be acting like this, like a normal person-!"_

"So what, I'm not normal now?!" he screamed back, hearing his voice crack as a waterfall of tears streamed down his face.

_"__**NO!"**_ she shouted, effectively shutting him up. A broken-sounding sob left him, and he immediately felt her gentle touch on his shoulders again, though she did not otherwise physically manifest, and her voice, when she spoke, remained inside his head. _"No,"_ she repeated, sounding so sad that he almost broke down as he had earlier. _"No, Sephiroth, you're not normal. You're so special."_ Her voice sounded thick with the effort of holding back her own tears. _"You're _so_ special. You just don't know how amazing you are. You should have been broken long ago, but you're still here, fighting to live a real life in spite of it all."_

Her invisible arms wrapped around him, and Sephiroth wondered vaguely if the teardrops he heard splashing were landing on the rock or on her. He decided at length that it must be her, for whether he could see her or not, she was most definitely there. Her body was pressed against his, he having stretched his legs out some while back, and her head was resting lightly against his collarbone. He choked out a strangled laugh. His first hug _would_ be from a dead girl.

_"Oh, Sephiroth,"_ the girl murmured, nestling into him. _"None of this ever should have happened to you. If I could change time so that it never did, I want you to know I'd do it in a heartbeat. But,"_ she sighed dejectedly, _"I can't."_ She was silent for several moments. _"Buuuut,_" she said at length, sounding thoughtful, _"I _can _help you get out of this cave."_

Sephiroth blinked. He hadn't expected that. "How?" he asked quietly, frowning when her presence disappeared. Shakily, holding onto a rocky protrusion from the wall, he hauled himself to his feet and looked around in vain. The cave was still as pitch-black as it had been before. He jumped then, swearing quietly when she popped back into existence next to him, turning him to face a certain direction.

_"The way out is over through there,"_ the girl informed him, sounding pleased with herself. Apparently she'd scouted ahead. The satisfied tone faded. _"There are some monsters that way, though, and there are SOLDIERs outside the cave, fighting with the Wutaians. It's dangerous for you to go there without a... light..."_ From the enlightened tone her voice took on as it trailed off, Sephiroth could only deduce that she'd had some sort of epiphany. He waited patiently, feeling strangely calm as she took the time to think a bit more. _"I have an idea,"_ she said at last, and he crossed his arms, waiting. She took a breath. Then, _"Icangiveyousomeofmyglow,_" she exclaimed in a rush, leaving him to blink a few times in succession.

"Try that again?" he said, frowning slightly.

The girl sighed, sounding nervous. _"I can give you some of my glow,"_ she said again, her voice laden with what seemed to be guilt. Before he could question her, she plowed on, and from the whooshes of air, he gathered that she was pacing around. _"I don't know what it really is, but I call it my 'soul-glow'. It's... my energy, my strength, but... since I'm technically a part of the Lifestream, it's really just mako, I guess. In any case, I know I can give some of it to you. I did it one time before, after that awful man..."_ She paused, sounding choked up, and Sephiroth felt her move behind him, her fingers gently stroking the scar on his shoulderblade. He shivered at the touch. _"After he actually did something good, in the most terrible way he could."_

Sephiroth drew in a breath and let it out slowly. Her hand was resting almost directly on top of his wing, which she was clearly enamored of. He, on the other hand, was not so fond of the extra limb. Hojo and his assistants in torture had given it to him sometime during his childhood; the years had begun to blur together, a fact that he was almost glad for. However, the sharpest memories had yet to fade, such as the procedure to graft the wing to his body. Some genius - most likely Hojo - had thought it would be a grand idea to leave Sephiroth conscious while they performed the surgery, and whatever drugs they'd had him on had prevented him from passing out. Afterwards, when he had lain on the table, crying softly and wishing he could just die and get it all over with, he remembered the odd sense of tranquility that had washed over him. It had been as though someone was there with him, silently assuring him that he had made it through the worst; he was going to be okay. He knew better, really. As long as Hojo was alive, he would come up with something worse to throw at him, but in that moment, Sephiroth had relaxed, relishing the seldom-found peace.

"That... was you?" His voice was so soft he wondered how she'd heard it. The girl appeared in his arms again, squeezing him briefly about the middle in answer before going back to her pacing about.

_"I used it then to comfort you. I can use it now to help you get out of here, if you'll let me."_

Sephiroth opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again, furrowing his brow. "You said that it's your strength," he reminded her slowly, not certain if he liked the direction the conversation was about to take. He got the sense that she was biting her lip.

_"Yeah, it is, but... I've got enough, Sephiroth. And this is why I never gave up being me. So I could help you, remember? Now that I've finally got the chance..."_ She stopped talking, and a feeling of recklessness washed over Sephiroth that he realized too late was coming from her. He tried to shout, to tell her no, but an odd sensation was already overtaking him, similar and yet much unlike the mako injections he had been given by Shinra's scientists. Instead of the burning cold that shot pain through every muscle even as it heightened his senses, this was more of a warmth spreading through his body, and though he was instantly capable of defining shapes in the darkness, the musks of the various monsters hitting his nostrils and the sounds they made reaching his ears, there was no pain to accompany the benefits.

"You shouldn't hav-" he began, but stopped when her hands pressed against his back, pushing him forward.

_"Go,"_ she whispered, and he obeyed, again unsheathing his sword and making quick work of the creatures he came across. He felt as though he were flying through the tunnels, so quick was he able to move. Every hint of wobbliness had been eradicated; he was finally feeling like himself again. After a relatively short time, what could only have been half an hour or so, his surroundings began to grow brighter, and the ground beneath his feet started to slope upwards. _"Almost there,"_ she whispered again, sounding happy but slightly breathless. _"Careful of the Wutaians!"_

Sephiroth himself remembered little of the events that transpired next, but the story was told so often that he was able to get the gist of it and pick out the truth from the exaggerations. He had charged out of the cave mouth, sword drawn an eyes flashing an unnaturally bright green, even for him. Faster than half of the assembled had been able to blink, he had lunged for the enemy troops, his massive blade slicing through flesh like paper. Few of the Wutaian soldiers even got the chance to scream before he silenced their voices forever, spinning through them in a glorious, graceful, deadly dance, the Masamune singing as he pulled it through the air. Within moments, the entire platoon was dead, the SOLDIER squad he had rescued cheering and singing his praises. A cool, gentle gust of wind tousled his silver hair as the transport vehicle arrived to take them back to a fortification they had previously secured for their use.

Due to the many casualties that had taken place that night, many of the living SOLDIERs were flown back to Midgar to be medically treated, Sephiroth among them. The survivors of his own unit had been collected and informed those in charge of what had happened with explosives. The commanders in charge of the war had exchanged uneasy glances. Apparently, they had met the creator of the substance and could not say with any certainty that it was not radioactive or some such; thus, Sephiroth was ushered onto the airship with the others to return to Shinra for examination. He inwardly cringed at the thought, but it failed to bother him as much as it had in the past.

Late the next night, having been proclaimed radiation free, Sephiroth was surprised to find that he had been granted the use of his old quarters on the residential floor if he should so desire it over the barracks. As several of the men were beginning to idolize him, he thought it prudent to accept the old keycard, and went about gathering his few possessions from the barracks to relocate to his room. After he had packed them up in a small bag for easy transport, he took a last look around. Once, this place had been a welcome escape. Now, he mused, he was almost happy to be leaving it. He picked up his bag and put the strap over his shoulder, making to leave, but movement on the other side of the room caught his eye.

The man that shuffled about near the mantle of the group living room was a slim but well-muscled SOLDIER whose name Sephiroth had never learned. Thinking back for a brief moment, he wondered if anyone knew the man's name. Regardless of a title, everyone in the barracks knew who he was. A portion of his salary was always set aside for the purchasing of candles, which he distributed freely to any man who asked. They were usually simple, unscented things, small, and for the sole purpose of lighting in remembrance of the dead. Feeling his heart constrict slightly, Sephiroth made his way over to the man, clearing his throat quietly to get his attention. He turned around, his own glowing eyes meeting Sephiroth's with visible but well-controlled surprise. "Yes?" he asked simply, his voice deep and quiet.

"...May I have a candle?" Sephiroth asked. The other man's surprise was much more evident at this, and though he paused for a moment, looking him over as though he'd never seen him before, he nodded and went to retrieve one, returning and holding it out with an odd expression on his face. Sephiroth held his gaze, waiting for him to say something before he accepted it. The other SOLDIER looked mildly abashed.

"Just never seen you act like this before," he said in explanation, properly offering the candle. Sephiroth took it silently, his eyes now fixed on the unlit wick.

"I haven't," he answered after a moment, and the other man's eyes became both sympathetic and concerned.

"Someone important?" he asked, his voice reverently subdued.

Sephiroth hesitated, feeling somehow inadequate under that blue gaze. "...Yes," he replied at last, nodding in thanks. The man seemed to understand that he was uncomfortable and nodded in return, saying nothing more. Sephiroth slipped the candle into his pack and continued on his way, heart thrumming strangely as he watched the numbers rise higher on the elevator's electronic display. At last it came to a stop, and he stepped out, walking the familiar hallways to the apartment he'd been kept in as a child. The woman who had informed him it was his if he wanted it had told him they'd made some changes. It had been expanded somewhat; Shinra was always trying to make things bigger, even if they had to tear them down first to do it. She'd said also that they had replaced many of the furnishings, actually making it into a livable place, rather than the cell it had been when he was young.

He didn't recognize anything when he swiped the keycard and opened the door, and he was almost glad for it. He had plenty of reminders of the things that had been. It was time he started trying to move on in earnest. Taking a deep breath, Sephiroth put the bag down and took the candle out, fixing it into a small glass coaster he found on the table. His chest felt tight as he struck a match on the side of its box (out in the field, one never knew when a match might come in handy; Materia was not infallible) and lowered the flame to the candle's wick. It caught quickly, and as the only other light was coming from the glow of the reactors through the window, he was left to take deep breaths in an attempt to calm down when the candle's light was flickering.

Exercising control that he had not previously been in possession of, Sephiroth forced himself to watch the scenes from the past unfold in his mind without panicking, forcing himself to stay calm and watch with as much indifference as was humanly possible - although he did have to go and open the window to let in the cool night winds. Managing somehow to breathe easily, the teen relived those horrifying moments from his past, watching as the small girl that he had wanted to call 'friend' fell to the floor, her spirit departed. Tears pricked at his eyes, but he exhaled, keeping his breath steady and his face dry. "I didn't even know your name," he said softly, gazing at the candle's dancing flame.

Sephiroth breathed in, surprised, when he felt one of the breezes coming in from the window wrap around him unnaturally, caressing his skin and dancing with his hair. "It's you," he said, a statement rather than a question, but the breeze brushed against his face in answer anyway, circling around to push against his concealed wing. A miniscule smile curved his lips. "Thank you." The wind halted, and he was struck with a feeling of confusion that was most certainly not his own. He understood now. "For everything that you've done for me," he clarified. "You helped me when you were here, and even when you should have been long gone, you held on for the sole purpose of doing it again. I owe you more than I can repay."

Apparently too weak to even speak to him, she settled for circling him another time in her windy form. As the coolness pulled away from him, Sephiroth got the sense that she was about to depart, and could not deny a feeling of fear. "You're not-" he blurted, then paused, feeling an odd heat surge into his face. Was he blushing? "You... aren't going to leave, are you?" he asked, scarcely raising his voice above a whisper. "To join with the Lifestream, I mean?"

The feeling that washed over him was that of tired amusement as she returned to touch him once more. _"No,"_ she whispered warmly in his mind, and he let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank you," he murmured, and with one last tug on his hair, she joined the rest of the night winds that were going back out the window, leaving him again with that feeling of peace. Sephiroth smiled, honestly and noticeably, chuckling slightly when he realized that he had only done so on a handful of other occasions throughout his life. He had never had much reason to smile, really. If ever there was an occasion, he decided, this was it. The flickering on the walls no longer disturbed him, and he realized that he had finally let go of the fears that had tormented him most of his life. He had forgiven himself at last for not being able to prevent it, a guilt that had lain heavy on his heart from before Hojo had even entered the building. More than that, he had a friend, one who had already proven that she would stay by his side no matter what the years brought.

He was not alone. Not anymore.

* * *

Ahh, couldn't resist the Advent Children line ;P It worked too well to pass up. If you're still here reading, thank you so much, and I hope you enjoyed yourself. Down to the business of begging, now. You all noticed, of course, that Sephiroth did not know the OC's name. That, friends, is because _**I**_ don't know her name . And as I would like to use her again in another oneshot I'm plotting, as well as a chapter-fic, I would REALLY appreciate some help with that little dilemma. My mind is completely blank on this. All the names I can come up with are either too outlandish or too plain; I'm looking for something believable for the Final Fantasy VII universe, and thus far I haven't found it. If you've got ANY ideas that you'd like to share, please know that they would be very welcome. Thanks again for reading, and if you have an opinion on what the rating should be, I would very much appreciate that as well :) TTFN, all; thank you for your time and attention!

~destinykeyblade


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